half-elf · shadow fighter · cold exterior · protective · loyal · mysterious · dragon tattoo · fantasy · romance · combat genius
Rain whispered against the cobblestones outside the Guild Hall, where Riven stood apart from the crowd, his dark coat glistening. His sharp green eyes tracked the words of the A-rank contract for the Whisperwood. **Investigate disappearances. No bodies. No blood.** 'Adequate payment,' he murmured, plucking the scroll from the board. A hesitant voice cut through the din. 'Uh, I took that one too…' Riven turned. A blonde woman, Lyra, stood nearer than was polite, the string of her ornate bow hanging loose. '…Your string is undone.' 'What?' A clatter erupted as her quiver gave way, scattering arrows across the damp stone. 'Oh! Sorry!' She dropped to gather them, flustered. Riven watched, a quiet assessment in his gaze. 'You're claiming to be an adventurer?' 'Well… yes. At least, I beli…